Tonight has been very hilarious. Missed out on Amanpour's Soyinka interview but heard that Labaran Maku chickened out of the opportunity to be head to head with Wole.
Then I was treated to a head to head between Isha Sesay and the rogue doctor turned government attack dog, Doyin Okupe. Isha didn't send him and went toe to toe. The man just kept saying "you know" and fabricating on the spot jargon to make his boss look pretty. She asked him how it was possible for many girls to be abducted in a state under a state of emergency and he said that the number of boots on the ground were not sufficient to cover every grain of sand. The same fellow assured that the forces had the numbers and equipments to give the abductors a hot pursuit and crush them.... Insanity!!!!.
Then the coward minister of information stepped in and appeared to speak in a deeper tone. He started comparing bombings by terrorists in Nigeria to what America faces in Taliban territory and what Pakistan and Iraq face on the regular. In other words, it's supposed to be a normal sequelae of fighting terrorism. I wonder why he didn't compare Nigeria to countries that have no terrorist attacks even in west Africa. He ended up sounding offended by Isha's persistence and at one time bent on speaking on even when she asked him to cease. It looked like he stormed away while the camera was still fixated on him.
Okupe said he would have come dressed in red if he had prior knowledge of the interview as a mark of solidarity. He said more than 2 battalions were already storming Borno. His contesting of the year BH started in Nigeria with Isha was very laughable...2009, no.. 2002; 2009 .ok only became this relentless in 2009... Crazy. Then he told the world to " Calm down...". Someone rightly asked on Twitter if the man would remain calm if his daughter was kidnapped.
They said a lot of sickening jargon, I can't wait for the next installment.
In the interim, I need to buy a new guitar. I need to find a tune for, " na only you waka come....deris Godu ooo... Chie chie.....". If you are led by the spirit, help me with a semi-acoustic one sharp sharp.
jide akeju
6/05/2014
Thursday, 8 May 2014
One Wednesday
I stared from face to face
Some withered and lying down
Most still strong and seated
I played the angel of death
At least for that moment
He is stricken, weak enough to lie
His chest riddled with cheese
Eyes wide open as if staring at death...me?
Only he knows his story
I can only imagine
They are partners
Apart on the same bench
She gave me...No he did
Their unspoken grudge
Eats them up within
Faster than that virus can ever dream
I feel they are closer to death
I must be losing my mind to imagine that
Who am I to stand as judge even for a second
Over those caught up in this battle
They have come to fight for time
They have stared death in the face
And live they shall...
jide olee akeju
12pm 05/03/09
HIV/AIDS clinic every Wednesday here in Langtang....Lets help those affected everywhere have a good life despite the odds in every way possible
Some withered and lying down
Most still strong and seated
I played the angel of death
At least for that moment
He is stricken, weak enough to lie
His chest riddled with cheese
Eyes wide open as if staring at death...me?
Only he knows his story
I can only imagine
They are partners
Apart on the same bench
She gave me...No he did
Their unspoken grudge
Eats them up within
Faster than that virus can ever dream
I feel they are closer to death
I must be losing my mind to imagine that
Who am I to stand as judge even for a second
Over those caught up in this battle
They have come to fight for time
They have stared death in the face
And live they shall...
jide olee akeju
12pm 05/03/09
HIV/AIDS clinic every Wednesday here in Langtang....Lets help those affected everywhere have a good life despite the odds in every way possible
BALEWA AND OUR DOCTOR'S CHAOS.
I spent a few minutes on Wednesday evening watching a YouTube clip on late prime minister, Tafawa Balewa's state visit to the United states of America in July 1961.
I couldn't help but wonder just how a regular teacher turned politician could hold his American audience spell bound when he delivered speeches, scripted or not.
It's almost 53 years since that visit by our 'teacher' prime minister to see JFK and we are daily bombarded and insulted by TV adverts with voice-overs by foreign professionals that project the current PhD president as comparable to the late orator and civil rights activist; Martin Luther king, the father of modern Singapore; Lee Kuan Yew, the late Madiba who paid the price to avert a south African implosion and the white house 'point guard', Barak Obama.
I find it hard to believe that a PhD holder who is unable to accurately pronounce the word 'chaos' as well as many other words that end up sounding like beer parlor slangs is being exalted alongside men of proven records and accomplishments. How can he be compared to men who speak and spoke words with the capacity to awaken sedated minds; words that transcend time and would continue to reverb through to generations yet unborn?.
There ought to be a minimum standard in the consciousness of Nigerians of what a potential leader ought to be like. Such people ought to prove themselves sound in most topical issues especially when pitted against equally versatile opponents.
Listening to a few clips on the president addressing the workers' day rally in Abuja caused me to fear that an imposter may just be responsible for running the affairs of this country at the moment, I may be wrong. Some people ask for respect to be given to the office of the president. I just wonder if insults directed at such individuals exceeds the disrespect that could arise from the possibility of an incompetent and fraudulent fellow occupying that office.
Conspiracy theories or not, all I know is girls are missing and this president cannot inspire confidence in the hearts of his people that recovery is at hand.
Another bomb they say has gone off again killing 'just' about 9 people. Perhaps a sign that security for the coming world economic summit is gradually taking shape. Over 100, got bombed away on the 14th of April, so compared to tonight?.... Child's play
If indeed these wanton destruction, bombings and kidnappings were targeted at compromising the incumbent's grip of power, then I think further pressure needs to be piled upon him even if it means he has to step aside.
Nigeria is bigger than any individual, she's bigger than any PhD holder or phantom shoe collector. Nigerians have senses to perceive and choose right. It is a matter of urgency to rid our system of mediocrity and script writers of these never ending 'tales by moonlight'. The least of us should be able to speak like ATB, we cannot afford to fail our young and dreamed ones anymore.
We shall arise. ...
jide akeju
01/05/2014
DIARY 'TINZ'
I set out late for Ilorin this morning due to the fact that I wasn't aware that the sanitation exercise had been cancelled as a result of the secondary school entrance examination.
My journey was good except for a very close shave from Oyo towards Ogbomosho.
The ever tortuous route indicated great caution and that I tried to utilize until whenever it was clear to do a 'red bull' past the numerous articulated vehicles that littered the road. I had decided to slow down significantly only for me to suddenly see approaching on my side of the road, a tanker moving fast to overtake another in front. I couldn't swerve off the road completely due to the uneven surface that waited for me so I moved as far right as possible and stepped on the brakes hoping that the speeding tanker would do same. He didn't, he seemed to have had an axe to grind with the other tanker driver and was hell bent on completing his flanking mission. He succeeded but not without leaving me shocked even for a split second.
The governments of the day should move heaven and earth to solve the primitive road problems we have in this country. At least let tankers and other heavy vehicles have their own lane.
I couldn't help but notice a detachment of armed soldiers around a broken down luxurious bus on the Lagos-Ibadan expressway this morning. The vehicle belonged to the 'Young shall grow motors' and two other buses had stopped ahead to attend to the broken down one. I observed that it seemed these buses were conveying soldiers in leafy green combat fatigues with matching helmets out of Lagos to a destination I do not know. They all had their weapons with several magazines and a good number did not appear impressed by the shoddy transportation they were using.
I ask just one question, is it appropriate for luxurious buses to convey armed soldiers especially when there is no war or conflict situation?
I want to assume that the richest man in Ibadan must be the fellow that supplies the numerous models of Nissan 'micra' cars that are used for taxis in and around Ibadan city. There are there in different colors and models. I wonder if Nissan are aware of this patronage, they may consider having a 'micra' rally in Ibadan that would attract foreign participants or at least help to establish and run driving schools for the many primitive taxi drivers in Ibadan. Those people can so re-enter road anyhow..!
I also noticed 3 Nigeria Defence Academy vehicles, in fact TATA buses fully loaded with plain clothes individuals and luggage at their rear ends on the highway to Oyo. I initially thought these vehicles were related to the soldiers I saw earlier at Ibadan until I realized these ones were neither uniformed or armed. The third and last vehicle in the convoy had no front windshield and the frontal structure was mangled most probably following an accident. I ask, could these plain clothed people be new NDA entrants and why would a vehicle with a traumatized anterior be used to carry rams talk-less of humans on a significantly long journey.
Ogbomosho people look like they could succeed as stunts performers and doubles. They mount 'okadas' without fear, riders and passengers. One guy I saw with one hand to control and the other apposed to his hear while answering a call. I'm not sure there are enough Neuro- and orthopaedic surgeons to handle the result of this recklessness.
I finally arrived Ilorin and stopped at the red traffic light just before the first round about after the airport. As a good Lagos boy tutored by LASTMA, I stop when I see red light even though say na like one minute still dey to wait. Na so Ilorin drivers wey dey behind me begin dey swear for me because I wait. My people, wetin I do no pure?
Anyways, let's stand collectively for a better society. No be only that ibadan driver dey drink pure water throw sachet for road. Even doctor dey chop meat pie throwey nylon for hospital floor.
Let's stand for what is true, right, fair and just. God bless.
jide akeju
26/04/2014
GRACELAND
GRACELAND.
I don't remember the number of times I watched the Graceland concert of Paul Simon (1987) where he featured Hugh Masekela, Miriam Makeba and Ladysmith Black Mambazo. We (my siblings and I) learnt virtually all the songs from that concert including the "bring back Nelson Mandela" song. The song about a man I was told was badly treated and jailed because of the color of his skin.
The man who was prepared to give his life for his country in 1964 and who represented the hope of equality and freedom for his race walked out from incarceration after almost 30 years and his kind geared up for a final onslaught.
He would have been justified if he spent his years as president rounding up the supremacists responsible for the physical and mental torture he suffered. He could have claimed PTSD and exerted full vengeance for the likes of Steve whose blood was shed in the struggle against apartheid.
Some of his kind must have cursed him when he urged his nation to rally behind a 'White' sport and the SA rugby team just before the start of the 1995 world cup held in SA. He inspired a largely white dominated team to sweat blood and shed tears to bring glory to their homeland against all odds a feat that was matched in 1996 by the 'Bafana Bafana' when they lifted the Africa Nations' Cup also on home soil (I still believe the Super Eagles would have won if not for Sani's grudge).
I remember Gen. Abdusalami Abubakar rolling his thumbs like a school boy when he visited Sir Nelson after Sani's demise. I don't know what Nelson told the man but it must have convinced him not to dilly-dally in Aso-rock and attempt to emulate the African hero.
Step forward Uncle Sege...looking humble with spectacles that looked like something out of Madea's closet. Many thought the prison yard must have re-calibrated his soul in order launch Nigeria's crashing ship back into orbit alongside Madiba's transforming Nation. Madiba changed their flag and anthem, a song sung passionately by all and sundry irrespective of tribe or tongue. He restored their hope and encouraged the people to sheath their swords. He showed the world that change could begin from the top, he taught humanity that forgiveness, tolerance and love were not archaic virtues but contemporary and resident in every human heart.
Uncle Sege missed the plot even though he tried to simulate the reconciliation stunt but too many things were further swept under the carpet and too many skeletons left locked up in exotic closets. While SA still remains suspect with fault lines yet apparent, the show of unity evident outside of Madiba's home last night still gives hope of a secured homeland. Their leaders must ensure that his spoken words and deeds remain audible even in the ears of generations unborn.
Nigeria seems to be drifting further away from the promised land as our fault lines get further exposed and undermined by primitive sentiments of religion, tribe, gender and social class. We have had our own fair share of selfless heroes (Gani and Fela to name a few) and have failed to heed their words. We have instead been listening to those that have consistently plundered the resources of this nation storing up funds that their generations unborn cannot even dream of exhausting.
I am not sure if Madiba set up any personal library or established a world class farm or ranch. I am not sure if he built any church in his hometown or if he even built any bridge to his ancestral home. All I am sure about is that he built bridges across melanin pigments, across bank accounts and across glossal muscles.
I pray our leaders in Africa and Nigeria would stand up to be counted and allow their souls to be responsive to what inspired Mandela. He paid the price so that we could be saved the pains of physical and mental slavery. It's left to us what we want to do with this worthy template, a made in Africa one.
Rest in Peace Madiba.
jide akeju
6/12/2013
I don't remember the number of times I watched the Graceland concert of Paul Simon (1987) where he featured Hugh Masekela, Miriam Makeba and Ladysmith Black Mambazo. We (my siblings and I) learnt virtually all the songs from that concert including the "bring back Nelson Mandela" song. The song about a man I was told was badly treated and jailed because of the color of his skin.
The man who was prepared to give his life for his country in 1964 and who represented the hope of equality and freedom for his race walked out from incarceration after almost 30 years and his kind geared up for a final onslaught.
He would have been justified if he spent his years as president rounding up the supremacists responsible for the physical and mental torture he suffered. He could have claimed PTSD and exerted full vengeance for the likes of Steve whose blood was shed in the struggle against apartheid.
Some of his kind must have cursed him when he urged his nation to rally behind a 'White' sport and the SA rugby team just before the start of the 1995 world cup held in SA. He inspired a largely white dominated team to sweat blood and shed tears to bring glory to their homeland against all odds a feat that was matched in 1996 by the 'Bafana Bafana' when they lifted the Africa Nations' Cup also on home soil (I still believe the Super Eagles would have won if not for Sani's grudge).
I remember Gen. Abdusalami Abubakar rolling his thumbs like a school boy when he visited Sir Nelson after Sani's demise. I don't know what Nelson told the man but it must have convinced him not to dilly-dally in Aso-rock and attempt to emulate the African hero.
Step forward Uncle Sege...looking humble with spectacles that looked like something out of Madea's closet. Many thought the prison yard must have re-calibrated his soul in order launch Nigeria's crashing ship back into orbit alongside Madiba's transforming Nation. Madiba changed their flag and anthem, a song sung passionately by all and sundry irrespective of tribe or tongue. He restored their hope and encouraged the people to sheath their swords. He showed the world that change could begin from the top, he taught humanity that forgiveness, tolerance and love were not archaic virtues but contemporary and resident in every human heart.
Uncle Sege missed the plot even though he tried to simulate the reconciliation stunt but too many things were further swept under the carpet and too many skeletons left locked up in exotic closets. While SA still remains suspect with fault lines yet apparent, the show of unity evident outside of Madiba's home last night still gives hope of a secured homeland. Their leaders must ensure that his spoken words and deeds remain audible even in the ears of generations unborn.
Nigeria seems to be drifting further away from the promised land as our fault lines get further exposed and undermined by primitive sentiments of religion, tribe, gender and social class. We have had our own fair share of selfless heroes (Gani and Fela to name a few) and have failed to heed their words. We have instead been listening to those that have consistently plundered the resources of this nation storing up funds that their generations unborn cannot even dream of exhausting.
I am not sure if Madiba set up any personal library or established a world class farm or ranch. I am not sure if he built any church in his hometown or if he even built any bridge to his ancestral home. All I am sure about is that he built bridges across melanin pigments, across bank accounts and across glossal muscles.
I pray our leaders in Africa and Nigeria would stand up to be counted and allow their souls to be responsive to what inspired Mandela. He paid the price so that we could be saved the pains of physical and mental slavery. It's left to us what we want to do with this worthy template, a made in Africa one.
Rest in Peace Madiba.
jide akeju
6/12/2013
SAVED
SAVED
Saturday was Ayodeji's seventh lesson at the swimming pool of the Heritage resort Ikeja. A careful individual on a normal day and never venturing into paths unknown. It seems the urge to develop a bucket list comes with advancing age and the onset of the feeling of declining youth. Ayodeji was constantly reminded of his ever protruding abdomen and the 'locks' of grey hair shooting out from follicles on his scalp.
Sky diving, skiing and reaching the peak of Everest remained confined to the backyard of his mind. In the interim, he had opted for swimming lessons with the hope that the little exposure he got while on a weekend trip with school mates ten years prior would help the anticipated amphibian mutation.
Ayodeji did not take too long to progress from gliding to flapping his feet effortlessly. The instructor on the day was Mr. Peter who also had other people to oversee most of whom were young children with floaters. He spent a moment to advise a mother not to allow her daughter who was about three years old and without a cap access into the pool. Peter suggested after a few minutes that the execution of the newly acquired skill be advanced to the deep end instead of the shallow end that Ayodeji was comfortable with.
A quick swim to the deep end ensued and Ayodeji held on to the pool's support bar as his feet could not reach the bottom. His only problem was how to remain afloat without holding on and that he really wanted to learn. Mr. Peter demonstrated a process of flapping the feet and hands which Ayodeji quickly attempted but without success.
The instructor asked his student to stay at the edge of the pool holding on to the bar while he sped across to the shallow end to check on another swimmer. The overly confident Olympic hopeful however decided to experiment on his own. He seemed to eventually grasp the flapping movements with his head above water as he let go of the bar and drifted away from the edge until a sudden plunge without enough time to take a breadth. Seconds passed by and almost equated light years. Ayodeji urged himself not to panic, "just relax and keep flapping till you rise to the surface..". The words of Mr. Peter echoed in his ears as his composure seemed to lead him back to the surface. He reached in vain for the bar and another transient panic moment sent him back under but this time after taking in a mouthful of chlorinated water.
It was time to say his final prayer and focus on the bright light that beckoned on him through his goggles. "This must be how people die by drowning", Ayodeji thought to himself until he felt a strong grip on his left hand pulling him back to the surface and to the safety of the metal bar. Peter had somehow in the midst of the activities in and around the pool spotted him in distress and darted across to rescue his ward. It was surely a miracle and Ayodeji thanked his God as he launched himself out of the pool coughing repeatedly.
That was surely the end of the lessons for the day and he made his way to the chair he kept his towel on close to the shallow end of the pool. He reflected on his narrow escape and for a second felt relieved that most people by the pool did not witness his moment of embarrassment despite his quick prayer for help from anywhere while in distress.
After sitting still for about ten minutes and wondering what could have been, he decided to walk to the other end where Peter was guiding another determined swimming. He had planned to express his gratitude and notify him of his exit from the premises till another Saturday. Ayodeji had taken a few steps past the entry point into the shallow end when he glanced right and noticed two young girls. The older was comfortably clutching her floater while the younger seemed to be flapping her arms repeatedly and with her head beneath the surface.
It was the three year old without the swimming cap, "Where on earth is her mother?" Ayodeji thought as he launched his right hand to scoop the girl to safety. Her mother was curiously at the other end standing and admiring something quite important on her phone completely oblivious of the misadventure her daughter had undertaken. It appeared like only one or two individuals had seen the girl in danger and were perhaps not close enough to help.
Ayodeji's Olympic dreams may have been dashed after his own misadventure but the thought of being in the right place at the right time to save the life of someone who may be destined for greatness after only just being saved himself spurred him to take another plunge into the water that Saturday. Maybe he was saved for such a moment as that.
J Olee Akeju
There is nothing that we think we have that we did not receive.
12:13pm, 27/1/14
Saturday was Ayodeji's seventh lesson at the swimming pool of the Heritage resort Ikeja. A careful individual on a normal day and never venturing into paths unknown. It seems the urge to develop a bucket list comes with advancing age and the onset of the feeling of declining youth. Ayodeji was constantly reminded of his ever protruding abdomen and the 'locks' of grey hair shooting out from follicles on his scalp.
Sky diving, skiing and reaching the peak of Everest remained confined to the backyard of his mind. In the interim, he had opted for swimming lessons with the hope that the little exposure he got while on a weekend trip with school mates ten years prior would help the anticipated amphibian mutation.
Ayodeji did not take too long to progress from gliding to flapping his feet effortlessly. The instructor on the day was Mr. Peter who also had other people to oversee most of whom were young children with floaters. He spent a moment to advise a mother not to allow her daughter who was about three years old and without a cap access into the pool. Peter suggested after a few minutes that the execution of the newly acquired skill be advanced to the deep end instead of the shallow end that Ayodeji was comfortable with.
A quick swim to the deep end ensued and Ayodeji held on to the pool's support bar as his feet could not reach the bottom. His only problem was how to remain afloat without holding on and that he really wanted to learn. Mr. Peter demonstrated a process of flapping the feet and hands which Ayodeji quickly attempted but without success.
The instructor asked his student to stay at the edge of the pool holding on to the bar while he sped across to the shallow end to check on another swimmer. The overly confident Olympic hopeful however decided to experiment on his own. He seemed to eventually grasp the flapping movements with his head above water as he let go of the bar and drifted away from the edge until a sudden plunge without enough time to take a breadth. Seconds passed by and almost equated light years. Ayodeji urged himself not to panic, "just relax and keep flapping till you rise to the surface..". The words of Mr. Peter echoed in his ears as his composure seemed to lead him back to the surface. He reached in vain for the bar and another transient panic moment sent him back under but this time after taking in a mouthful of chlorinated water.
It was time to say his final prayer and focus on the bright light that beckoned on him through his goggles. "This must be how people die by drowning", Ayodeji thought to himself until he felt a strong grip on his left hand pulling him back to the surface and to the safety of the metal bar. Peter had somehow in the midst of the activities in and around the pool spotted him in distress and darted across to rescue his ward. It was surely a miracle and Ayodeji thanked his God as he launched himself out of the pool coughing repeatedly.
That was surely the end of the lessons for the day and he made his way to the chair he kept his towel on close to the shallow end of the pool. He reflected on his narrow escape and for a second felt relieved that most people by the pool did not witness his moment of embarrassment despite his quick prayer for help from anywhere while in distress.
After sitting still for about ten minutes and wondering what could have been, he decided to walk to the other end where Peter was guiding another determined swimming. He had planned to express his gratitude and notify him of his exit from the premises till another Saturday. Ayodeji had taken a few steps past the entry point into the shallow end when he glanced right and noticed two young girls. The older was comfortably clutching her floater while the younger seemed to be flapping her arms repeatedly and with her head beneath the surface.
It was the three year old without the swimming cap, "Where on earth is her mother?" Ayodeji thought as he launched his right hand to scoop the girl to safety. Her mother was curiously at the other end standing and admiring something quite important on her phone completely oblivious of the misadventure her daughter had undertaken. It appeared like only one or two individuals had seen the girl in danger and were perhaps not close enough to help.
Ayodeji's Olympic dreams may have been dashed after his own misadventure but the thought of being in the right place at the right time to save the life of someone who may be destined for greatness after only just being saved himself spurred him to take another plunge into the water that Saturday. Maybe he was saved for such a moment as that.
J Olee Akeju
There is nothing that we think we have that we did not receive.
12:13pm, 27/1/14
PETROL, SLIT THROATS AND TRICYCLES
Petrol, slit throats and tricycles
I decided to catch up with local news tonight and tuned in to AIT. I was not quite alarmed when the report of the ongoing fuel scarcity in the capital Abuja was airing until the they got to the point when a young man and established black market trader was interviewed by the reporter. In poor English, he boldly defended his trade and remarked that he hoped the scarcity persisted for 1month at least.
Then the news of the students slaughtered and burnt in their sleep at a Federal government college in Yobe last night. This was followed by the report of a condolence message to those concerned that emanated from the president.
The final news I was able to pay particular attention to was that about the youth and women empowerment campaign by mama peace GEJ in Okrika as part of the MDG programmes in Rivers state. The camera picked up shots of sewing machines, grinders, mattresses, bags of possibly food substance, tricycles and a few other primitive items.
The sight of young men hustling and thriving on the apparent scarcity of petrol gives insight to the kind of chaos and destruction that is potentially lodged within the minds of these idle ones if and when they are pushed to the wall. I actually think they are almost at that wall. The news was interrupted by a live report from the petroleum workers responsible for the pseudo-scarcity. They had just concluded their meeting and determined to press on with the strike due to the failure of our refineries to work. Could it be that they know something about the potential of these refineries that we don't know?
Why are we bothered about the massacres going on in the north? Should we be bothered at all since it doesn't get to us? Do the Borno and Yobe governors not know that they owe the president GEJ a world of gratitude for drafting the military to those areas in the first place? How ungrateful the Borno governor is! Would he be able to sleep for one night if GEJ opted to withdraw his troops for even one night? Why are they talking as if Boko Haram started in their zones? If they don't know, it started in Abuja...the UN building was bombed now...abi?
Okrika youths and women must be so skilled and talented and must be delighted to do great jobs like pepper grinding (i wonder if they grow enough pepper there) and tricycle racing after which they sleep on flat mattresses upon bunk beds. She rightly advised them not to misuse the little she brought for them. Somebody's 'Jesus Christ' on earth has spoken.
jide akeju
25/02/2014
I decided to catch up with local news tonight and tuned in to AIT. I was not quite alarmed when the report of the ongoing fuel scarcity in the capital Abuja was airing until the they got to the point when a young man and established black market trader was interviewed by the reporter. In poor English, he boldly defended his trade and remarked that he hoped the scarcity persisted for 1month at least.
Then the news of the students slaughtered and burnt in their sleep at a Federal government college in Yobe last night. This was followed by the report of a condolence message to those concerned that emanated from the president.
The final news I was able to pay particular attention to was that about the youth and women empowerment campaign by mama peace GEJ in Okrika as part of the MDG programmes in Rivers state. The camera picked up shots of sewing machines, grinders, mattresses, bags of possibly food substance, tricycles and a few other primitive items.
The sight of young men hustling and thriving on the apparent scarcity of petrol gives insight to the kind of chaos and destruction that is potentially lodged within the minds of these idle ones if and when they are pushed to the wall. I actually think they are almost at that wall. The news was interrupted by a live report from the petroleum workers responsible for the pseudo-scarcity. They had just concluded their meeting and determined to press on with the strike due to the failure of our refineries to work. Could it be that they know something about the potential of these refineries that we don't know?
Why are we bothered about the massacres going on in the north? Should we be bothered at all since it doesn't get to us? Do the Borno and Yobe governors not know that they owe the president GEJ a world of gratitude for drafting the military to those areas in the first place? How ungrateful the Borno governor is! Would he be able to sleep for one night if GEJ opted to withdraw his troops for even one night? Why are they talking as if Boko Haram started in their zones? If they don't know, it started in Abuja...the UN building was bombed now...abi?
Okrika youths and women must be so skilled and talented and must be delighted to do great jobs like pepper grinding (i wonder if they grow enough pepper there) and tricycle racing after which they sleep on flat mattresses upon bunk beds. She rightly advised them not to misuse the little she brought for them. Somebody's 'Jesus Christ' on earth has spoken.
jide akeju
25/02/2014
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